“What kind of experiments?” Caleb asks.
“Forced transformation. Genetic manipulation. Combat enhancement. He’s trying to create hybrid soldiers who can be controlled. Subjects are taken from border territories. Missing persons Aurora probably has reports on, but couldn’t connect.”
Vanya’s expression hardens. She knows what I’m describing. Has seen Syndicate facilities before. “How many?”
“Forty-seven taken. Twenty-three alive when I defected. The rest didn’t survive procedures.”
The wolf shifter pulls up a tablet. Scans quickly. “We have forty-seven missing person reports from that region. Last eighteen months.”
“Verified,” I confirm.
“How do you know this?” The vampire speaks for the first time. Old voice. European accent I can’t place. “How do we know you’re not fabricating intelligence to buy sanctuary?”
“I commanded security oversight for Syndicate research divisions. Every facility, every project, every expenditure crossed my desk for approval. Including Vex’s.”
“And you approved this?” Vanya’s voice is sharp. She knows what those facilities do. “You knew hybrids were being tortured and authorized it?”
“I approved security protocols. Not the research. I didn’t have the authority to shut down Ivory League-sanctioned projects.”
“But you knew,” she presses.
“I learned while I was Syndicate,” I agree. Keep my voice level. “That’s why I’m here now. To stop it.”
Viktor cuts in. “You have documentation? Proof this facility exists?”
“Personnel rosters. Supply manifests. Security protocols. Facility schematics. Encrypted files I can access once sanctuary is confirmed.”
“Where are these files?”
“Secure location. Retrievable upon agreement.”
Viktor leans back. “You’re asking us to grant sanctuary based on intelligence we can’t verify until after we’ve committed.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not standard procedure.”
“It’s the only procedure that keeps me alive long enough to deliver.” I hold his gaze. “If I give you everything now, you have no incentive to protect me. You could take the intelligence, raid the facility, then execute me or turn me over to the Syndicate.”
Torbjorn makes a sound that might be respect. “You don’t trust us.”
“I don’t trust anyone.” Honest. “But I’m trusting you with this: the facility exists. Twenty-three hybrids are there right now. Vex uses them for experimentation that violates every treaty Aurora claims to uphold. You can verify location independently—send scouts, satellite imagery, whatever you need. You’ll find infrastructure. You’ll find evidence. But you won’t breach successfully without my intelligence on security protocols.”
“And if we try without your help?” Zoya asks. Her voice is measured, strategic.
“You’ll lose operatives to defenses you don’t anticipate. And Vex will destroy evidence before you succeed. He has contingencies. I know what they are.”
Silence. Council members exchange looks. Calculating.
“We need to discuss this,” Viktor says. “Commander Allon, wait outside.”
Guards escort me to the corridor. The door closes.
I lean against the wall. Breathe. The suppression cuffs are heavy. The field from the chamber—they have it active there too, probably to prevent any shifter from using abilities to intimidate—has made my head pound.
Time passes. Fifteen minutes. Twenty. I count breaths. Stay centered.
The door opens.
